Home is Where the Heart is
by Evenstar656
Summary: Jim would've felt uneasy about his crew seeing him so vulnerable if this had happened months ago, but now he was more at home than ever after everything they had been through with Khan and Marcus.


Title: Home is Where the Heart is

Author: Evenstar656

Summary: Jim would've felt uneasy about his crew seeing him so vulnerable if this had happened months ago, but now he was more at home than ever after everything they had been through with Khan and Marcus.

Spoilers: Star Trek Into Darkness, general AOS

Disclaimer: The Star Trek franchise and its characters are property of Paramount.

Author's Notes: These plot bunnies are really getting out of hand now, they just keep coming. I was working on a post STID fic (like everyone else) and this little bit popped into my head and I thought I'd expand it some. I'm not sure if it'll ever make it into the beast that's currently on my hard drive, but here it is. Although I am a doctor, I'm not that kind so I happily practice with my fictional degree. I have to admit I'm stretching things for a bit of fun. Again this is just some shameless h/c. Feel free to leave a review!

_I apologize for any mistakes, this was un-beta'd_

###

"Booones," Jim whined as he watched the doctor unload all of the medical paraphernalia from his bag.

"Don't 'Bones' me you dumbass, this is what you get for needing your bone marrow regrown. I bet you'll think twice before jumping in the warp core while it's powered up now."

"This is punishment isn't it?" Jim pushed himself further into his sofa.

"No it's not, Jim, but I'm not going to deny myself any satisfaction I get from this," McCoy was loading a cartridge into his hypo.

"Why couldn't you have done all this while I was in the hospital? It's not like I wasn't there for a month and a half," Jim gulped as McCoy kept unpacking medical stuff.

"I told you then, we had to wait six to ten weeks to make sure your new immune system was up and running. Your scans and I-G serums from yesterday at SFM looked good so we can go ahead and re-inoculate you."

"Bones," Jim whined again.

"Stop being such an infant, and take them like a man. The sooner you get this over with the sooner you'll feel better."

Jim was confused, "Feel better? I'm going to get sick?"

"Well…the Norazite flu vaccination is going to be unpleasant."

"What do you mean 'unpleasant'?"

"You might have some symptoms," Bones was clearly uneasy.

"Bones," Jim was not happy.

"There'll be some flu-like symptoms."

"Dammit, Bones. I really hate you right now."

"You had this as a toddler, it shouldn't be _that_ bad."

Jim looked at the row of hypo cartridges lined up on his coffee table, "How…how many are there?"

"Eight."

"Eight?" Jim's face paled.

"Ready?" McCoy waved the hypo in his hand.

"Be gentle, please," Jim pleaded as the hypo was slammed into his neck, "Ow! Gentle!"

"One down."

Both sides of Jim's neck were beet red by the time McCoy slammed the last hypo home. He looked positively miserable.

"You alright there, Jim?"

"I would fire you if I could," the Captain groaned.

"You wouldn't do that, I'm the only one who puts up with your shit. Lay down before you pass out. My daughter has more fortitude than you and she's only seven," McCoy was scanning Jim with his tricorder.

Jim's vitals were elevated and he was sweating profusely, he really hated hypos. McCoy chuckled to himself as Jim toppled sideways on his couch.

"You're never hypo-ing me again, things always end badly for me," Jim mumbled into the throw pillow.

"Yeah, yeah, quit needing so many of them and I promise I'll stop," McCoy got up to dispose of the empty cartridges.

He brought back a glass of water and an empty fruit bowl from the kitchen on his return trip from the trash receptacle.

"What's that for?" Jim eyed the empty bowl.

"Just in case," McCoy set it down on the low table.

"Just in case for what?" Jim was really annoyed.

"Some symptoms include intestinal upset."

"You know, you really need to work on being more up front about these things," Jim thought he could feel his stomach start to gurgle.

"Well, you could just wait an hope you never catch the full strength virus. It'll make this look like a cakewalk."

"No one does 'cakewalks' anymore, Bones. Didn't I order you to stop with the metaphors?"

"You know, you're an ungrateful little shit. I could've admitted you for this instead of letting you stay at home," McCoy snapped.

Jim pushed himself upright, "I'm sorry, Bones. I don't mean to be ungrateful; I know you've done a lot for me to get me this far."

"Jim, I know you're itching for clearance but this kind of recovery takes time," McCoy plopped down on the sofa next to his whiney captain.

"Thanks for—" Jim started before a wave of nausea cut off his sentence.

"Jim?"

"How soon until I get sick?"

"It depends, usually about half a day. Why, are you starting to feel bad already?"

"I think so," Jim paled.

McCoy saw the color leave Jim's face and rushed to get the bowl underneath him as his gastrointestinal system decided to expel everything he'd eaten for dinner and probably lunch. He placed a comforting hand on the back of Jim's neck as the vomiting turned into dry heaves. After a rinsing his mouth out with water, Jim groaned as he leaned back into the cushions.

"This is going to suck."

"Apparently. If this is a mild strain, I'd hate to see what the full strain would do to you. I came prepared in any case, we'll just have to ride it out."

Jim was about to reply, but his stomach had other ideas and he was heaving into the bowl again. Nothing more than some stringy bile came out, but it sapped all of his energy.

"I'm going to give you something for the nausea, Jim," McCoy was popping a cartridge into a hypo.

"Don't come near me with that thing," Jim wiped the sweat from his head with his sleeve.

McCoy paused and set the hypo down, "Alright, Jim, for now. Though I won't have a choice if things continue."

Jim nodded miserably. McCoy took the bowl from him and cleaned it out. By the time he returned from the kitchen, Jim had stretched across the sofa with his arm over his eyes. The doctor pulled the blanket off the back of the sofa and covered his patient with it.

"Thanks, Bones."

"You're welcome, Jim. Get some rest. This will be over before you know it."

McCoy took his data pad out of his bag and sat down in the armchair where he could keep an eye on his friend. He tabbed open some journal articles he needed to read for the research project he'd been assigned to while they were grounded. McCoy looked up from his reading to study Jim, things really weren't supposed to have been bad this quick. At most he was supposed to have a cold for a few days, but clearly his newly healed body was going to be as finicky as it was before the hard reboot courtesy of the Khan's plasma. McCoy sighed and dove into the article, the past was over and the only direction was forward.

###

McCoy finished adding a splash of cream to the mug of tea before handing it to Jim's outstretched hands. Jim looked sick; he was cocooned in several blankets. His fever had started climbing a few hours ago and had been hovering at 39.5 degrees for the past few hours.

"Drink up kid, you need to stay hydrated."

Jim took a few tentative sips before setting the mug on the coffee table, "What time is it?"

"Uh, just past 2200," McCoy looked at his chronometer, "You're not hungry by any chance are you?"

Jim glared at the doctor; that was a definite 'no'. A groan escaped his lips as he tried to shift on the sofa; aches had settled deep in his joints.

"Sore?"

"Yeah," Jim exhaled.

He saw McCoy load a hypo out of the corner of his eye and turned his head to accept the approaching medication. The doctor pursed his lips at the compliance and gently delivered the analgesic and antipyretic.

"Want to move to your bed?"

Jim nodded and slowly pulled himself upright. The pair made the awkward shuffle to the bedroom where Jim promptly plopped down on his bed. He closed his eyes as the soft comforter and mattress yielded to his weight. McCoy tossed him an old t-shirt and his sleep pants. This 'mild' virus had sapped everything from him in a matter of hours. Warm hands ghosted over his stomach as his shirt was pulled over his head and the new one was slipped on.

"Can you get your pants?" McCoy was folding his shirt.

He lay back on the bed and fumbled with his pants.

"Christ, Jim. You owe me big time for this," the doctors hands were already shimmying Jim's pants off his hips.

"Don't look," Jim smirked.

"You have a lot of nerve you brat. Besides, who do you think put your catheter in while you were in a coma?"

"Ugh, Bones. We agreed not to talk about that."

"Well, next time I'll skip that and you can piss yourself," he pulled the sleep pants up.

"How long's this supposed to last?" Jim buried himself under his comforter.

"Hopefully only a couple of days," McCoy stacked a few pillows behind the Captain.

Jim felt the bed dip as McCoy sat on the edge and leaned into the hand gauging his fever. The hand moved and something cold and metallic enclosed itself around his wrist.

"It's just a med sensor, Jim," McCoy watched his friend's brow wrinkle.

"I thought I was done being sick," the man's eyes were growing heavy.

"I know, Jim, just rest."

The ailing man sunk deeper in the pillows and his eyes fell shut. McCoy ran his hand through Jim's sweaty hair to unstick it from his head before pushing himself off the bed. He called for the lights to dim and then left to go get comfortable in the living room. After setting an alarm on the program keeping tabs on Jim's vitals, he leaned his head back against the chaise lounge and was fast asleep.

###

If either of the two men had thought they would get any rest, they had been severely mistaken. Mere hours after Jim had drifted off to sleep, the tea he'd drunk returned with a vengeance and was accompanied by an equally sinister cough. McCoy had quickly awoken from the chirping of his data pad, but he wasn't quick enough to reach his friend and prevent him from vomiting all over himself.

Jim was dozing fitfully on his sofa after a change of clothes while McCoy changed the bed linens. He finished folding the comforter and walked into the living room to find his charge hacking. McCoy felt guilty, things really weren't supposed to have been this bad. He went to the kitchen and wet a cloth and had the replicator produce a cup of ice.

Water trickled down through Jim's sweaty hair and he sighed with relief at the cool compress on his forehead, "That feels nice," his voice was scratchy.

"I should've expected you to respond abnormally to a weak childhood vaccination."

"Keeps things interesting," Jim swallowed painfully.

"Ice? It'll help your throat," McCoy set the cup of ice in Jim's hand.

The CMO noticed that his patient didn't make any movement to actually consume the ice. Jim barely whimpered as he injected more analgesics and antipyretics. He took the cup that began slipping as Jim dozed back off to sleep.

###

"Jim, I'm gonna have to start an IV if you don't drink anything. Don't think I haven't noticed that you haven't pissed since early this morning."

In a testament to how truly awful he felt, Jim pulled his arm out from under the blankets and offered it to the doctor.

"Well this is a first," McCoy was stunned.

"Just do it," Jim barely had his eyes open.

"Alright, I promise you'll start to feel better soon."

"Better," Jim coughed.

"You need to feel better, Nyota and Sulu are coming by with dinner in a few hours," McCoy worked diligently to prepare everything.

The IV box was slipped over Jim's arm and settled into the crook of his elbow. A quick tap on the small control screen and a line was established; Jim didn't even flinch. McCoy deftly connected tubing to the port and hung a bag of saline on the IV stand that assembled like a pop up tent. He took a good long look at Jim's pale and sweaty face; he felt really guilty about inflicting all this on a man who had already suffered so much lately.

"Okay, you're all set," McCoy put Jim's arm back under the blankets, "I'm sorry how this turned out."

" 's not your fault. 's not as bad as before…" Jim didn't need to mention what happened only months ago.

"Yeah, I hope you'll think twice if a similar situation ever arises," McCoy quickly busied himself adjusting the flow rate so he didn't have to look his friend in the eye. Even though they had already spoken their peace to each other after Jim had been released from the hospital, it was still a sensitive topic.

"Would do it again," Jim didn't hesitate, "We're here having this conversation because of it."

"Just rest, dinner time will be here before you know it and you _will_ eat something," the conversation was quickly ended.

A soft chime from the door woke the two slumbering men up. Jim had fallen asleep quickly after the IV was started and McCoy had nodded off while reclining on the chaise lounge.

Uhura and Sulu, their arms full of take out bags, entered the apartment quietly noting the dimmed lights in the living room.

"How is he?" Uhura asked softly while unpacking Chinese cartons on the dining room table.

"He's pretty miserable right now. In true Jim fashion a simple childhood vaccination has laid him flat on his ass."

"Norazite flu?" Sulu asked pulling out two six packs of cold beer.

"That's the one," McCoy dug around in the bags and pulled out a container of clear broth.

"I don't remember mine, but I know I was jealous that my little brother got to stay home from preschool for a few days when I was younger."

McCoy poured some of the broth into a coffee mug and sat down on the edge of the sofa, "Slow sips, Jim," he held the mug to the man's lips.

"Hey, Jim," Uhura greeted the Captain as he took careful sips of the warm liquid.

"You look like shit, sir," Sulu said following the IV tubing that disappeared under the blankets, earning himself an elbow to the side.

"Good to see you too," Jim croaked.

"Spock wishes you a speedy recovery and he'll stop by in a couple of days. He's been detained at the orbital dry dock to oversee the installation of the new warp core with Scotty," Uhura brushed some sweaty hair off his forehead.

"Wow, they're really moving on that. I don't know if I'll be ready before her," Jim quipped.

"Well, there's still a lot to do," Sulu grabbed a container of food and a beer and sat down in one of the armchairs.

McCoy set the mug down seeing that Jim had consumed about half of the mug's contents. He patted the man's arm before getting up and procuring his own food and beer. The trio ate with Jim in the living room while catching up on all the news concerning the _Enterprise. _Jim would've felt uneasy about his crew seeing him so vulnerable if this had happened months ago, but now he was more at home than ever after everything they had been through with Khan and Marcus. They had sat with him while he was in a coma and kept him from going stir crazy while he had been bedridden after waking up. As much as he would do for them, they would do just as much in return.

Jim actually stayed awake longer than anyone would've guessed and had finally dozed off once it was substantially dark outside. Uhura and Sulu helped clean up the mess from dinner before making quiet goodbyes to McCoy. He'd managed to shuffle a half-asleep Jim and his IV to the bathroom before tucking him in his bed. The doctor in him replaced the nearly empty saline bag and administered another dose of the 'flu cocktail' he'd whipped up earlier.

McCoy finished his ministrations and rose from the edge of the bed where he had been perched.

"Bones," Jim's voice was thick with sleep.

"Yeah, Jim?" McCoy halted his movements.

"Stay?"

After being best friends for several years this was nothing new so the older man agreed, he couldn't take another night on the chaise lounge. McCoy quickly got ready for bed and climbed into the bed beside Jim.

"God you're a freaking toaster oven," the overwhelming heat from the sick man and all the blankets he was cocooned hit McCoy.

"'m still cold."

"Well, no spooning, I don't care who you are."

"Bones," Jim playfully pouted.

"Just go to sleep you little brat."

"Thanks, Bones."

"You're welcome, Jim. Lights off."

###

"Why can't you just take it out already?" Jim eyed the doctor who was replacing another empty IV bag.

"Start drinking more," McCoy grumbled walking to the dining room, "Eat your damn popsicle."

Although the Captain was still running fever, it had at least dropped to a more manageable number during the night. Like a child, Jim wasn't staying down very easily now that he was feeling marginally better. He had Spock release a batch of paperwork for the Captain to work through in order to keep him occupied while laid out on the sofa for the day. McCoy was at his wits end.

"I'm tired of paperwork," Jim said around the cherry red popsicle in his mouth.

"I'm tired of you whining so damn much."

"I feel better. Can we go out tonight?"

"I know you feel better, but you're still sick. You're supposed to be resting while your other symptoms dissipate. I won't have you hacking all over San Francisco. Besides, you haven't been upright for more than thirty minutes in the past two and half days."

Jim forcefully threw the popsicle stick onto the coffee table, pouting. With what he'd been through recently, coughing and body aches were minor inconveniences. He threw the blankets covering him off and swung his bare feet onto the floor. After taking a moment to clear his head after the rapid change in elevation, he pulled himself standing. The aches that he thought were minor suddenly sent a stronger signal to his brain and he couldn't hold back a groan. He grabbed the IV stand to steady himself.

"Jim?" McCoy watched with concern from the dining room table where his own work was spread out.

"Yeah, I don't feel so hot," He fell back down to the sofa wheezing from the exertion.

McCoy didn't need the med sensor to tell him that Jim's vitals were spiking, "Breathe, Jim!"

The only response from the Captain was coughing. McCoy quickly loaded a dose of Tri-Ox into his hypospray and delivered it to the carotid artery. The data pad keeping tabs on Jim's vitals quieted after he was able to draw in a few shaky breaths that left him wheezing.

"Easy, Jim" McCoy set a comforting hand on the back of Jim's neck.

"I'm good," the man was breathing easier, "I thought I could do it."

The only response from his friend was a comforting squeeze at his neck before the hand moved. He was wiped out and leaned against the back. The sofa dipped as McCoy sat beside him.

"You'll get there, Jim."

"I just want to be back to normal already."

"I know, and I know this isn't helping speed it up. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, Bones. It's just frustrating sometimes."

"Jim, you knew that you were looking at a complete recovery in terms of months if not a year. It takes time."

Jim nodded, "Can we invite the crew over?"

"Of course, let me go comm Uhura."

###

Uhura had quickly agreed to bring dinner again, and had brought along Sulu, Chekov, and Carol Marcus with her this time. They'd brought Italian take out for themselves and supposedly the best chicken noodle soup in all of San Francisco for Jim. He'd actually eaten the entire bowl and a bite of Carol's cannoli.

"Too rich for my blood," McCoy consoled himself with a long pull from his beer.

"I got nothing," Sulu similarly folded.

"Five," Uhrua threw a chip into the center of the coffee table.

Carol and Chekov both threw chips into the pot. Jim studied his cards from reclining on the sofa. He looked at the remaining players. Uhura eyed him and Chekov was grinning ear to ear. The only person he couldn't read was Carol who just stared at him emotionless.

"Call," the IV in the crook of his elbow tugged as he threw his chip in.

Uhura laid down a pair of kings, Chekov a pair of aces and a pair of tens, and Carol laid down four queens to squash Jim's own flush. Looking nonplussed she slid the chips from the pot into her own stash. Jim's face fell.

"What?" She asked seeing the stunned faces around the table.

"Nothing, your deal," Jim smirked sliding his cards to her.

"Are you sure inviting her was a good choice?" McCoy grumbled as he picked up his new cards.

"She's a shark," Sulu picked up his cards.

"I'm for one am grateful that she's here," Uhura shuffled through her cards.

"It'z because you are a gurl," Chekov looked disappointed at his cards.

"Precisely, I'm tired of this being a sausage fest."

The guys all stopped what they were doing to stare at Uhura and Carol chuckled softly.

"Well gee, we can drop her off the list too," McCoy slapped his discarded cards down.

"Guys, we're grateful for everyone," Jim added.

"I do appreciate you guys inviting me here. It's nice to be part of a family again," Carol looked truly grateful.

"We're glad to have you here," Jim smiled back.

They were in the middle of another hand of poker when the door chimed.

"It's kind of late for visitors," McCoy grumbled getting up to open the door.

His buzzed brain took a few moments to process the first officer and chief engineer waiting in the threshold; he stepped aside to let them in.

"It is pleasing to see you recovering, Jim," Spock stood on the outside of the poker circle.

"Good to see you too, Spock," Jim beamed, "Grab a seat, we'll deal you in on the next hand."

"Oi! A bit of poker. Well laddie, deal me in too," the Scotsman pulled a chair over from the dining room.

"Hey, Scotty. How are things going?" Jim set two cards down to be traded.

"Those bloody idiots at the dry dock all but need their hand held through everything," Scotty took an offered beer from McCoy, "But Spock and I made sure all's well with her new core. They should be starting to shore up the hull breaches soon. She's missing you though, Cap'n."

Jim was happy that his ship was in good hands, and truthfully he was missing her too. He told himself that they would be reunited with each other soon. However, now wasn't the time to brood, home was with his family whether they were on board the _Enterprise_ or here in his apartment cleaning him out in poker.

###

Jim woke up and looked around to see that he was in his bedroom and that he'd been freed from the IV and the sensor bracelet. He didn't remember falling asleep, no less making it into his bedroom. He took a deep breath and was surprised that it didn't start off a chain reaction of unstoppable coughing. After pulling himself upright he realized that the aches were a fraction of what they had been for the past few days. Moving took a lot of energy, but he felt better.

He swung his legs over and gingerly stood up. His bare feet relished the soft carpet underneath them. He looked down at himself and noticed that he was wearing different pajamas than the ones he'd been lounging in the previous day. The bedroom door slid open silently and he padded down the small hallway to his living room.

His heart swelled at the sight before him. His friends were strewed about the room using various pieces of furniture, or the floor, to sleep on. McCoy was snoring on the chaise lounge, Sulu and Chekov were using throw pillows on the floor, Scotty and Carol had pulled together two armchairs, and Spock was sitting upright on the sofa with Uhura's head in his lap. Being Vulcan, he required very little sleep so he was completely aware to the Captain's entrance.

"Good morning, Jim," Spock said quietly.

"Yes it is, Spock," Jim smiled.


End file.
